Five times a member of SG1 couldn't sleep
by rebeccavoy
Summary: written for lj: sg1 five things


**Title:** Five times a member of SG-1 couldn't sleep

**Rating:** G

**Spoilers: **Affinity, and minor for s9/10

**Summary:** Five times a member of SG-1 couldn't sleep

**Author's Note:** sg1_five_things

**Date: **19/07/09

**Disclaimer:** Stargate doesn't belong to me. I put it on my Christmas wish list every year, but Santa never delivers

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1.

Jack ducked out from under the flap of his tent and took his place across from Daniel, the fire lighting the space between them. The light hit Daniel's face, shining on his hair and making his face look far younger than it actually was as he dutifully looked out at the perimeter of their camp. If Jack ignored the rather tight grip he had on his mug of coffee and the three or four journals falling from the top of his pack, he could almost replace Daniel's image with the one that had been floating behind his eyes all night.

The firelight had flitted over his face too, lighting up his sticky, marshmallow-caked grin. He had looked up at his dad with joy, so happy to have this time; just him and his dad. Charlie had looked forward to the trip for months, his first ever camping trip – a birthday tradition that had been cruelly interrupted before it's time.

Jack kicked a rock into the flames, remembering how Charlie had always delighted in the jumping sparks. Camping had lost it's novelty for Jack, but tonight as he imagined the birthday trip that could have been, he realised that Charlie would have loved to have been sitting on the log right next him, even if there weren't any marshmallows.

Noticing Daniel's worried glances in his direction, he offered up what he hoped was a assuring smile and sent him off to bed. Daniel might as well get some sleep, even if Jack didn't. Settling in, one hand resting on his P-90, the other scooping up the remains of Daniel's coffee, he wondered if Charlie could see him from where he was, or if heaven only looked down over Earth.

2.

SG-1 had a system for their offworld sleeping arrangements that had been finely honed over their years travelling together. There were certain things that they all just knew and accepted without question. They all knew that Daniel pitched the best tent, despite Jack's claims to the contrary. They all knew that it was a bad idea to wake Jack unexpectedly. And they all knew it was a bad idea to leave Sam to sleep on her own – aliens had been known to get all sort of weird kidnapping ideas once introduced to Carter.

For the most part this was a system that worked well. But now… Daniel paused as the 384th sheep jumped through the stargate and turned to glare at the lump next to him. Sam and Jack usually shared a tent leaving the second for Teal'c and himself – something Daniel had never had any issues with. Until now. Until Teal'c lost his symbiote. Until Daniel learned that Teal'c snored loud enough to wake the dead.

He sighed as he rolled over and shoved the pillow over his head. This was it, the last night he was going to spend awake like this. Tomorrow he and Jack were having a little chat; he knew for a fact that Sam didn't snore, and it was high time for a trade.

3.

She counted the hisses coming from behind the bulkhead she leant against. There had been thirty-four hisses and eighteen pops in the previous hour and she was holding out for a new record this time round. She was keeping track on a scrap of paper she had found in the pocket of the coat she had stolen and she wanted to raise the day's average above yesterdays. Anything to keep busy. Anything to stop thinking. Anything to stop her from sleeping.

It was only another day or so to Jay'nus and there she could abandon the rust bucket falling apart around her and escape into the noisy bustle of the city. No one ever slept at night there anywhere, maybe she could find something interesting to keep her hands busy. Anything to avoid the darkness that sleep forced her into. Anything to avoid the feeling of floating in nothingness. Anything to stop going back to where she had been.

She was Vala again. And she would do whatever she had to stay that way.

4.

Teal'c fetched himself a since of the 'welcome to your new apartment and every new apartment needs one thing – cake' cake that GeneralO'Neill had given him and settled into the large overstuffed sofa that DanielJackson had helped him pick out. He lifted his feet up and rested them on the not-too-high, but not-too-low coffee table that MajorCarter had assisted him in purchasing and looked out at his window to see what remained of the sunset not being obscured by neighbouring apartment buildings.

He had been so excited to make the move from the mountain to his own apartment, and had thought himself well prepared. But the independence he had sought had come with a price he had not anticipated. Midnight rounds of Jell-O with MajorCarter were not a simple walk down the corridor. Greeting a sleep worn DanielJackson at the elevator first thing in the morning, reaching to catch the books he would inevitably drop, was far harder to achieve. And GeneralO'Neill no longer felt the need to linger in the commissary most days to share his evening meal, when his dinner companion had his own home to go to.

Even though reminders of his friends – his family – surrounded him in his carefully decorated apartment, Teal'c had never felt so alone.

5.

Sam knew she should get some sleep, she had a busy day tomorrow that would start all too soon. But knowing this did not cause her to close her eyes, or even consider it. She continued to lie just as she had been all night: eyes wide open, head resting on a warm chest and an arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

She knew he was awake, just as he knew she was, but neither spoke. They didn't need to. It was enough to simply lie, feeling his heart beat under her cheek as they stole away a night together. Tomorrow would come soon enough and Jack would have to board another plane back to Washington. But night time was their time, and it bought the much needed comfort to endure their separation.

His need for constant movement resurfacing, Jack moved forward slightly and brushed a soft kiss into her hair. It was a small movement, but one that meant volumes after years of constraint, one that Sam could hear his words in. She sighed and squeezed him gently as she nestled in further to watch the morning light start to creep in over the windowsill.


End file.
